


50 Years and Beyond

by emma_and_orlando



Series: Froger Week [4]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Anniversary, Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Growing Old Together, Hospitals, M/M, Quiet Sex, True Love, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 02:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21348772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando
Summary: Six times Freddie and Roger celebrated their anniversary + one time they didn’t.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: Froger Week [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536466
Comments: 34
Kudos: 81
Collections: Froger!Week 2019





	50 Years and Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Just a reminder:
> 
> my work in no way discredits Freddie as a homosexual, person of color, who passed away due to complications from aids. If you would like to participate in a debate about these critical subjects, do it somewhere else.
> 
> Fanfiction does not have to be plausible. If you want something written a certain way, feel free to write your own fanfiction ❤️
> 
> Don’t like = Don’t read
> 
> Enjoy it, sweethearts

**[1970: _London, Kensington Market_]**

"Oh my God!"

The bell above the shops door rings half a second too late, Roger quickly pulls his lips away from Freddie's and removes his hands from under his flowery blouse as if burned.

"Brian, what are you doing here?" Roger asks, voice raspy and out of breath.

Now that Rogers body is twisted towards the door, Freddie's arms snake around his waist and he plasters himself against Rogers back. Resting his chin on Rogers shoulder. 

Brian is red in the face. His long fingers fumbling with the strings on the ends of his scarf. 

"I lost my gloves so I thought I'd come by and buy some new ones." He tries and fails not to look at Rogers zipped open pants and Freddie's nearly bare chest where the blouse has been unbuttoned. "Why didn't you tell me you two are together?"

Freddie chuckles warmly. His arms tightening lovingly around Rogers narrow waist.

"It only happened five minutes ago, Darling."

"We were just celebrating is all." Roger bites his already swollen bottom lip as he rubs his cheek against Freddie's. 

"In broad daylight in the middle of your store?" 

Brian crosses his arms over his chest in disapproval. Roger and Freddie can't help but giggle.

It takes quite a lot of willpower for Brians face to stay stoic with disapproval when his two best friends are glowing with newfound love. 

He grabs a pair of woolen gloves from the basket in front of their makeshift cash register. 

"That's two pounds." Roger whispers. Brian rolls his eyes. Leaving two coins on the desk, before turning on his heel.

Face still beet red. 

"You two are ridiculous."

The second the bell rings again and the door clicks closed, Freddie spins Roger around to capture his parted lips in another warm kiss.

**[1971: _London, Notting Hill_]**

"What do I smell?"

Freddie comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Bare feet dripping onto the ugly brown carpet as he steps into the kitchen.

Roger turns away from the stove and opens his arms for Freddie, before wrapping them around his neck as they fall into an easy kiss.

"It's breakfast." He grins up at Freddie while the naked man presses him against the counter. "For our anniversary." 

Freddie drags Rogers soft bottom lip between his teeth. One hand on Rogers cheek and the other tightly holding the towel around his waist to keep it form slipping down. 

"Is five months worth celebrating?" 

"Well, they said it wouldn't last." 

Rogers eyes shift down to Freddie's lips again, but before he can lean in for another kiss, the older man grasps his chin and forces his face sideways, until he can plant a tender kiss to Rogers cheek.

"Happy anniversary then." 

He places another kiss to Rogers slowly flushing cheek. He continues to trail them up to his ear. 

It tickles, Roger tries to push at his chest with a breathy giggle.

"Stoppit, you." 

"Why would I?" Freddie whispers right into the shell of his ear. His hot breath sends a shiver down Rogers spine. "Can't I tease you?"

"Not when I made you breakfast."

"Fair enough." Freddie allows Roger to squirm out of his touch. Though he is still trapped between Freddie's bare chest and the counter as he turns around to flip the pancakes on stove. 

Freddie crowds Roger, but the blond doesn't seem to mind.

He's still in his pajamas; an old Star Wars shirt and flowery orange panties, accompanied with woolen socks that reach just below his knees. His hair is sticking up in every which direction and he still smells like sleep.

Freddie can't help but lean in and nuzzle his face into Rogers smooth, exposed neck. His legs between Rogers, slightly forcing the blond to bend forward.

"I thought you'd stop teasing me." 

Roger swallows thickly when Freddie plays with the elastic waistband of his panties. Slowly rolling it down Rogers thighs. 

Freddie breathes in sharply, rocking his hard on against Rogers behind. 

"It's not teasing if you follow it through."

**[1975: _Rusper, Ridge Farm Studio_]**

"No."

"It's a good song!"

Brian leans forward in his chair. Glaring at Roger with wide, irritated eyes. "You're kidding me. You must be kidding me."

Roger had come prepared for an argument. 

He settles his drum sticks down onto the floor, using his fingers to count his points. 

"We let John have Misfire-"

"What's wrong with Misfire?" John squeaks. But Roger ignores him to present his second point. 

"We let you have a five minute guitar solo song-"

Brians shoulders square up in defense. "Don't start with Brighton Rock again, it's a good song."

"Freddie got to record me screaming on Lap of the Gods, until my ears were bleeding- So in conclusion, I can have my car song."

Roger closes his arguments with his arms folded over his chest too. Mirroring Brian mockingly.

The guitarist narrows his eyes at his childish behavior, but it only eggs Roger on more. "I already allowed Seaside Rendezvous on this album, why in the name of God would I also agree to this?" 

"It's a good song. It works amazing live."

"You don't know that for sure."

"No," Roger says sarcastically. "The prophet song. That'll be amazing live! Can't wait to go _la la la_ for ten bloody minutes, until every single person has left the stagw." 

"It's better than suggesting sexual intercourse with your car." Brian sneers back. 

"Is it called 'I'm gonna fuck my car'? _No_. It's 'I'm in love with my car.' It's different." Roger says defensively. Only just managing not to stick his tongue out.

John looks incredibly bored when he turns to Brian with a pleading expression. 

"Just let him have his bloody song, Bri."

"Thank you." Roger grins triumphantly. Having John on his side would only the song more likely to make it.

"Are you kidding me-" Brian then turns to Freddie, the voice of reason, his last resort, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole studio discussion. Facing his piano instead of the band.

He slowly cranes his neck to look at Brian. Who's begging him with his dark desperate eyes.

"Fred. Do you think we should have the car song on the album or not."

Freddie looks like he's in physical pain when he nods. Stiffly.

"Yes." 

Brians eyes widen and he slumps back into his chair. Shocked. "Are you fucking-"

"Thank you Babe." Roger grins widely, jumping up from his drum stool, before leaning in to press a wet celebration kiss to Freddie's mouth. 

Brian gets up from his chair as well, but not for celebration, just to leave the studio, grumbling about fresh air. 

John follows with a tired sigh, excusing himself for a instead beer.

This leaves the two lovers alone in the recording space. Roger waits until the door clicks close and he falls easily into Freddie's lap. Straddling his thighs and his elbow accidentally makes the piano notes sing. 

He cradles Freddie's cheeks and smiles brilliantly. Eyes twinkling.

"Thank you." He kisses him after every word to emphasize his gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Freddie sighs. Not looking quite as miserably anymore as he wraps his arms around Rogers waist to keep him from sliding off his lap.

"Only because it is our anniversary. Else I would have never-"

"Yeah yeah, shut it, I love you." Roger slides his tongue past Freddie's lips to make him sigh again, but more wistful this time. 

When Roger fumbles with the buttons of his trousers, his hips bucking up against Rogers. 

"Let's go up to our room so I can give you your present." 

Freddie bites his lip, grinning. "Do you still have anything worth offering after 5 years?"

"Why don't you be the judge of that? Hm?"

Roger slides his hands down Freddie's arms, until he can intertwine their fingers together and lead him out of the room with a devious smile. 

**[1980: _London, Garden Lodge_]**

"You have to be more quiet, babe."

Roger whines, burying his flushed face sideways into the pillows in an attempt at muffling his moans.

Freddie continues to grinds into him, his hands gripping Rogers hips so hard it will bruise by the next morning. He can't help but grope him. Not since Roger had chopped his hair anyway.

"H-harder."

"Okay." Freddie is panting, with beats of sweat rolling down his temples. "You're so tight. Fuck."

Roger squeezes around him for good measure. Pushing his ass out for more.

"Freddie. Fuck." He let's out high pitched gasps at every punctuating thrust that cleverly brushes his prostate. If his moans won't wake up the kids, the loud creaking of the bed might. "It feels so good."

Freddie leans down to kiss Rogers shoulder blade. 

He wishes he could see Rogers face right now. Knowing it's slack and glowing with pleasure. He's seen it a thousand times before and he never gets tired of his fucked-out expression.

But it _is_ their anniversary, and Roger really loves to be fucked on his hands and knees. 

Who would Freddie be to deny such pleasure?

"You feel so good. Even after all these years, you're so good and tight for me."

The dirty talk always gets to Roger. His thighs spread even further apart and he's gripping the bedsheets desperately for a sense of stability as he is rocked forward harshly with every thrust.

"Fred. Fred- ah. I'm so full."

The babbling means he's on the edge. 

Freddie smiles, plants a kiss on Rogers cheek, before leaning forward to clasp Rogers sweaty hand in his, while he chases his own orgasm.

"Happy Anniversary."

Roger is too fucked out to give a coherent reply.

**[1990: _London, the Royal Marsden hospital_]**

"Hi."

Roger looks up at the sudden interruption of the long stretched silence- startled as John comes shuffling into the cold, white room.

"Hey." Roger replies in a much raspier, quiet voice.

His hands are still clasping Freddie's cold one between his. Trying and failing to rub some warmth into them.

Filik and Evy are fast asleep on the cottage bed set up next to the hospital bed (by Brian). They are forced to curl up around each other for the small space fit. Filik has currently managed to steal all of the blanket from his sister, so John reaches out to splay his coat over her shivering shoulders.

Roger doesn't have the energy to thank him, John doesn't need to break the silence either. 

They have been like this for over five hours, ever since Freddie returned from the operation room. 

They both watch the silent rise and fall of Freddie's chest. The heart monitor beeping rhythmically beside the bed. The only two signs of him being alive. 

Freddie looks nothing like he did four months ago. 

With his thin body, nearly bald head, sickening sharp cheekbones, his skin a grey shade of pale and his eye sockets sunken deep into his face. 

Roger had wished to spare the terrifying sight from their children, but he could hardly stop them from seeing their father for months to no end. It would have done more damage in the end. 

Freddie had suggested not telling them at about the illness all, but they would have figured _something_ was wrong in no time.

With the daily hospital visits, the chemo, the throwing up. 

Him being bald. 

He even smells different these days, Roger thinks wistfully, trying to remember the smell of his Love. How easy it was to forget a scent that has been around him for over twenty years.

But hopefully, after two more risky operations over the next four months, he'll be back to his silly old self. With his family, at home, not constantly in a spiral of illness and pain.

"He's going to be okay."

Roger squeezes his eyes closed. He had hoped John wouldn't notice his tears.

He leans forward until he can kiss the back of Freddie's veiny hand. Lips only slightly trembling with emotion.

"I know." 

**[2014: _London, the Victoria & Albert Museum_]**

"Do you, Freddie Mercury take Roger Meddows Taylor to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I, Freddie Mercury," Freddie is grinning from cheek to cheek. Eyes twinkling with delight. "Take you, Roger Meddows Taylor to be my lawfully wedded husband."

"And do you, Roger Meddows Taylor, take Freddie Mercury to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." Roger breathes dreamily, making the guests in the room chuckle.

Freddie squeezes his clammy hands in encouragement. Winking. "The whole thing, Dear." 

"Sorry." Roger flushes behind his fluffy beard, but his joy shines through his entirely glowing face. "I, Roger Meddows Taylor, take you, Freddie Mercury to be my lawfully wedded husband."

The marriage officiant smiles warmly between the two of them.

"You may now exchange your rings." 

On cue, they turn sideways to their grandchild. Little seven year old Sarah. 

She's in a purple suit, per her request, and holds out the silver pillowed box containing their elegant golden rings with an excited smile.

"Thank you, Dear." Freddie says, taking Rogers ring from the box. Roger also takes his after a brief kiss on her forehead.

Sarah does a small bow, before jumping to the left to stand by her mothers side.

Freddie and Roger go back to facing each other. Their eyes on each others shaking hands.

"Rog?"

"Yes, Fred?" 

Freddie swallows thickly, before settling the ring in place to slide it down Rogers finger.

"With this ring I promise to continue to love you forever." With a slight nod from Roger, Freddie pushes it down the length of his finger.

Roger bites his lip, the band fits like a glove.

"I'm never gonna take it off." He promises with wide sincere eyes. 

Freddie grins widely, leaning in for a long awaited kiss, that makes everyone in the audience get up from their seats and shriek a loud collective _No!_

Brian gives Freddie's shoulder a slight pull backwards, away from Roger. As he's Freddie's best man.

"The rings first, Mr Mercury?" The marriage officiant suggests. 

"Right, right." Freddie pouts, nudging for a chuckling Roger to hurry up. "Come on Darling."

"You're so pushy." 

Roger doesn't complain and never will. 

Behind him, John pats his shoulder encouragingly. Remember the five hundred times they have practiced the ceremony together in his backyard in front of his chuckling grandchildren.

Roger takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on Freddie's subtly manicured fingers. Not as black and extravagant as they had been in 1973.

But his hands are warm and the lines familiar against Rogers when Roger holds his palm and easily slides his golden ring onto his finger. 

Freddie exhales deeply. Eyes blinking up at Rogers as their eyes meet.

"And now, I herby pronounce you husbands for life. You may now kiss." 

"Finally." Roger breathes, mouth parting slightly as Freddie leans in for their kiss as legal husbands.

Everyone around them applauds and cheers, but neither of them cares as their arms wrap around each other and their kiss deepens with an obnoxious wet sound. 

Freddie moans, cradling Rogers rounding face lovingly, while John covers Sarahs eyes. 

**[2020: _London, Garden Lodge_]**

"What are you doing?"

Roger smiles as Freddie continues to pull on Rogers arm, until the silver haired man resists and rolls onto his other side to face Freddie.

"Trying to kiss you, without having to move myself." Freddie whispers. "Duh."

Roger shakes his head, and pushes his lips out with his eyes still closed.

"Can't aim for your lips without my glasses."

"Get your glasses then." Freddie mumbles, less then four centimeters away from Rogers face. Each others breaths ghosting over one another's faces. 

"You woke _me_ up."

Their legs are tangled together under the blankets. Rogers arm is drapes over Freddie's neck and Freddie's hand is on his lower back.

He really does have to squint to make out the lines of Freddie's face and his stubbornly black dyed hair. When Freddie whispers something under his breath, Rogers ears can't catch it.

"I didn't hear that."

"Fine." Freddie caves in with a grumble, shuffling his warm belly flush against Rogers with the slightest groan at the pain in his back, until their shirt clad chests are touching and their noses rub against one another. Freddie closes his eyes and breathes in. "I said, I love you."

Rogers lip quirks. Feeling warmth spread to his lower belly even after all those years.

"I love you too, silly."

Roger is the one who caves in and connects their lips softly. Letting his eyes flutter closed with a satisfied sigh.

Freddie's fingers are trembling slightly, as they always do these days, but they settle to rest low on Rogers artificial hip. Their kiss is brief and followed by a soft brush of lips against lips.

Rogers tattooed hand cups the side of Freddie's face, his thumb rubbing at the aging wrinkles there. 

But with his black dyed hair, silver roots at the bottoms, his bushy mustache and kind honey eyes, he's the same Freddie Mercury, Roger has loved for many years before.

Freddie is giving him a similar once over. Repressing a cough stuck in his chest. 

"Happy 50th Anniversary, Rog." He says, blush half hidden by their satin pillows.

"And they said it wouldn't last." 

They swallow each others chuckles with another warm kiss. Their noses affectionately rub together while they enjoy each other in solitude. The blanket pooling around their waists and the bed creaking under their weight.

"How long until the kids get here?" Freddie asks breathlessly, even though they haven't been kissing for longer than five seconds.

Roger has never not loved the promising glint in his husbands eyes. "Two more hours, but Bri and John said wanted to come early for a private moment. The rest of the party starts at six."

"They can wait." 

Freddie decides, before rolling Roger onto his back and climbing onto his thighs with a tired, but persistent grunt. 

Roger giggles as Freddie's hands start pulling his boxers down.

**Author's Note:**

> Omg please tell me what you think!!!! Leave a comment. I love those so much


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